


Blossom

by kamicchis



Series: The victorious Rikkai dai [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Mentions of Marui/Kite, Past Inui/Yanagi, Past Relationship(s), Past Sanada/Yukimura, Sanada is a police man, Yanagi is a literature student, Yukimura appears in dreams sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamicchis/pseuds/kamicchis
Summary: Twelve years have passed and Sanada learns that there’s life beyond the boundaries of the tennis court. He also learns that either way, Yanagi is there.Continuation to Wilt.





	1. Chapter 1

If any of them had known how little their middle school tennis careers would matter in the future, perhaps things would have turned out differently.

 

Twelve years ago—if Rikkai had lost, albeit having won the Kanto regionals for the past fifteen years, maybe it wouldn’t have been _that_ big of a deal.

 

It only took Sanada 4380 days to realize this.

 

The anniversary of having won; but also the anniversary of having lost their captain. Even still, among the chatter of the former Rikkai regulars, it was ‘Yukimura-buchou,’ not Seiichi.

 

Didn’t he deserve a little more than that?

 

What if they had lost, but Yukimura had survived?

 

Sanada sighed to himself. What was the point in reminiscing upon what could have happened when ultimately, at this point, nothing would change what had happened?

 

Either way, at this time of year, Sanada found himself struggling to think of anything else except for Yukimura.

 

What could have been, what wasn't.

 

Everyone had moved on with their lives. Sanada had long since gotten his diploma in criminal justice law enforcement, working now for the city police department. Yanagi was in the pursuit of a doctorate in literature, now in his 6th year of school. Marui had moved down south to Okinawa and followed his dreams of being a pastry chef, marrying the strange fashion designer Kite in the process. Yagyuu was doing some kind of forensic work, intentionally explaining it in a manner that was far too difficult for any of them to comprehend. Kirihara was still playing tennis, doing some personal training on the side. Niou went into engineering, and Jackal took over the family restaurant.

 

It was now the beginning of April, and the sakura trees were in full bloom. The district that he patrolled was full of them. At this time of year, he found himself scolding tourists and the local school kids for touching their fragile blossoms.

 

He knew that if Yukimura were in his position, he wouldn’t be so forgiving.  

 

* * *

 

 

How things ended up like this, Sanada wasn’t sure.

 

It started on the couch. It _definitely_ started on the couch.

 

And now here they were, tangled up in one another on Sanada’s bed.

 

“I’m sorry.” Yanagi breathed, his words shaking as he came.

 

From their current position, Sanada couldn’t see his face. Yanagi hovered behind him, large palms grasping his hips as their bodies pressed together in a familiar way, though against foreign frame. He shook his head.

 

 _Don’t apologize_. Sanada thought.

 

Yanagi treated him well. _Alarmingly_ well. His touches were gentle, happy to please. After finishing, he brought Sanada to his own climax with a rapid stroke. He sighed in satisfaction, back arching against the press of Yanagi’s stomach before they collapsed together onto the mattress beneath them.

 

There was nothing to this, that was something both of them knew. They were only here to lick each other’s wounds, and that was that.

 

It was a terrible combination of Sanada’s loneliness and general midlife discontent, and Yanagi’s fresh heartache. But there was _more than_ _that_ , the shadow cast from his damp lashes accounted for the grief of years wasted, the lack of sleep and unspoken troubles that Sanada knew he’d never pry out of him, their fifteen year friendship no matter.

 

“It’s fine. It was bound to happen.” Yanagi had said.

 

Sanada could read on his face that it wasn’t fine.

 

Only several nights prior, Yanagi and Inui had broken up.

 

“We both realized that in combination of his medical residency and my pursuit of a doctorate, there was no way this was going to work out.” Yanagi had explained earlier that night over a glass of wine, the dim lights of the bar making Yanagi’s expression all the more difficult to read. “Neither of us had the time to put into feeding this relationship anymore. We never even saw each other.” He said. “Sadaharu was working nights six days a week and I have school. It’s been like this for months now. It was just impossible.”

 

“He said that?” Sanada asked.

 

“We mutually agreed.” Yanagi corrected.

 

Sanada stared down thoughtfully at his glass.

 

“How long have you been together now?”

 

“Eight years.” Yanagi sighed, taking a long drink. “If you want to be more specific, ask Sadaharu.”

 

“That’s alright.” Sanada frowned. “But don’t you two live together?”

 

“Yes.” He replied, a little too quickly, with bitterness.

 

“Er, I apologize for being crass, but…”

 

“Before you ask, I’m the one that’s moving out.” Yanagi explained. “I’ll just get a dorm room at the university.”

 

“It’s June. Is anything even available at this time of year?” Sanada pressed, with growing concern for his old friend.

 

“I’ll figure something out.”

 

“Renji…” Sanada frowned. “Are you still staying there?”

 

“As of right now, yes.” Yanagi explained hesitantly, continuing on before Sanada could say anything else. “It’s fine, Genichirou. We ended on good terms. It’s probably best if I stick around for a bit while Sadaharu adjusts, he can’t cook for himself—”

 

Sanada cut him off anyway.

 

“Don’t you stay there for him.” He scolded, placing his glass down. “He can take care of himself.”

 

Yanagi looked down.

 

Sanada sighed. The soft jazz music playing from the overhead speakers of the bar was too upbeat for where this conversation was going.

 

There was a long silence between them. Yanagi sipped his wine.

 

“Don’t tell me you still feel guilty for leaving when you were kids.” Sanada pressed. It was a sensitive topic, and that was confirmed when Yanagi’s expression contorted into one that Sanada had never seen before. “Renji!”

 

“I just don’t want to make things harder than they have to be for him.” Yanagi mumbled, tucking his long, cropped hair behind his ear.

 

“That was over fifteen years ago—”

 

“He still counts the days when we’re apart, you know?” Yanagi said then. His words ached. “Whenever I travel as a part of my research program, he counts the days. The _hours_.”

 

“That’s his own issue.” Sanada frowned.

 

“Regardless, it’s still my fault.” Yanagi rubbed his temples. “So who knows, what kind of effect is _this_ going to have on him?”

 

“You’re breaking up for a reason.” Sanada pressed on. “To focus on your respective studies. I’m sure he’ll be busy enough with work to keep occupied.” He assured him. “What year is he in now?”

 

“His third.” Yanagi sighed. “Only a year left, then he’ll be licensed.”

 

“It’s a critical time for him,” Sanada said. “And it’s not like you’re leaving him without a word. It’s a mutual agreement.”

 

Yanagi was silent, contemplative.

 

Sanada smiled. “Focus on yourself, Renji. Taking a break from being in each other’s space will be a good thing.”

 

Again, he said nothing. His glass was empty now, and Sanada took the incentive to pour him half a glass more from the bottle they had shared between the two of them.

 

“Say, why don’t you stay at my place for a while?” Sanada suggested then. “I’m not around a lot, so it’ll be like having the place to yourself.”

 

“Genichirou, I—”

 

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t mind the company.” He assured him gently. It was true, aside from the usual encounters with the folks of the neighbourhood during his patrol routes, Sanada kept mostly to himself. Even talking to Yanagi like this was something they hadn’t done in a long time.

 

And that was how it all began.

 

* * *

 

The following evening, they found themselves in the same position.

 

Almost.

 

Yanagi’s lips were on his; thirsty, needing. His fingers pulled at Sanada’s belt, unbuckling it with haste. Before, they had been drunk, and that was fine. Sanada would never hold anything against him, especially given that he was in such a time of need.

 

But now, they were perfectly sober, and Sanada had just walked in the door.

 

“Renji.” Sanada breathed between feverish kisses, his eyes open as he watched Yanagi struggle to loosen any article of clothing that he could get his hands on. “ _Renji_ , slow down.”

 

“Genichirou.” Yanagi replied simply, sighing against his lips. “Do you not want this?” He asked. He knew that even after all these years, Yanagi never wasted his breath; he knew that it was a serious question.

 

“I just got home.” Sanada mumbled, avoiding the question. It wasn’t that he didn’t. The previous night had been _damn_ amazing, Yanagi’s fingers mapping his body in each which way and making him curl into touches in places that he didn’t even know that he was sensitive.

 

But it was strange.

 

Yanagi’s fingers grasped his biceps, pulling back with a mysterious stare. “How was work?” He asked, his tone changing as if they weren’t just making out in the doorway of Sanada’s apartment.

 

“Er—it was fine.” Sanada confirmed. “Have you eaten yet? I can make dinner.”

 

“Later.” Yanagi said.

 

Sanada looked at him quietly, shuffling through his mind for questions to ask. To distract him. “Any exams to study for?”

 

“Later.” Yanagi repeated.

 

Sanada looked down.

 

“If you don’t want this, Genichirou, it’s alright.” Yanagi assured him, giving his arms a squeeze. He still didn’t let go of him. “I just know this time of year is difficult for you.”

 

Surprised, Sanada stared at him. “What do you mean?"

 

“When the flowers of spring are dying.” Yanagi said. “It always has been, since Seiichi passed.”

 

Sanada’s eyes widened at the accusation. But he wasn’t wrong.

 

In the beginning, the pass of the seasons was nothing but a passive reminder that time was moving on without him, without Yukimura. The world wouldn’t stop for him to grieve.

 

“It’s been twelve years, Renji.” Sanada said firmly. “I’ve moved on. We all have.”

 

Yanagi nodded. “I know, but no one will hold it against you for still feeling lonely sometimes, Genichirou.”

 

Sanada pushed him back. “ _You’re_ the lonely one, Renji.” He muttered. Yanagi didn’t attempt to come onto him again, so Sanada took the time to remove his shoes and hang up the hat of his uniform in the closet. He walked into his bleak, gray home. And why on Earth did Yanagi have all the lights turned off?

 

“Salmon for dinner?” Sanada called over his shoulder.

 

“Alright.” Yanagi agreed quietly, after a long moment.

 

 

Later that evening, once dinner was finished and their lunches were prepared for the next morning, Sanada found himself approaching Yanagi from behind, who was currently standing at the sink doing the dishes.

 

“Genichirou?” Yanagi whispered, brown eyes widening as Sanada’s arms curled around him from behind.

 

“I’m sorry.” Sanada apologized. They both knew an embrace like this was far too intimate for a hug between old friends. “My comment was uncalled for.”

 

Yanagi didn’t say anything, he just stared down at the sink full of water in front of them.

 

Sanada leaned in, kissing the back of his exposed neck. Yanagi’s long hair was currently tied back. He hadn’t grown it long since he was a child, back before he and Inui knew what their future held. He wondered if Yanagi had intention to cut it now.

 

Slowly, his hands rubbed up his abdomen, trailing down to his hips.

 

“Does this help?” Sanada asked, and when Yanagi paused, he knew that the other knew what he meant.

 

“Yes.” Yanagi said after a long moment.

 

Nothing further was said than that.

 

Sanada pulled down Yanagi’s pants, keeping him pinned in front of the sink. He jerked him off from behind, his face pressed firm against Yanagi’s neck as he did so. He trembled in his arms, spilling into his hand with a strangled groan. He fell back against Sanada, who held him in his arms, soiled hand held out in front of him.

 

From across the room, he could see the old framed photo on his bookshelf of him, Yanagi and Yukimura.

 

“I’m sorry.” Yanagi mumbled, sighing as he straightened himself out and tucked himself back into his pants.

 

 _Don’t apologize_. Sanada thought.

 

* * *

 

The next evening, Yanagi crawled into his bed in the middle of the night.

 

No words were exchanged. Before Sanada even had the chance to question what he was doing, Yanagi’s fingers were caressing his jaw, brushing the stubble and tickling his face. Yanagi’s eyes were open, watching Sanada’s reactions curiously.

 

Sanada nodded, and then they kissed.

 

Yanagi wasted no time. Their clothes were on the floor in moments, their lips hardly parting for even an instant. He breathed hard and heavy, their legs tangled, Yanagi’s hair splayed across the satin sheets as Sanada took him in.

 

Their bodies pressed, and they both let out a strangled, satisfied groan.

 

“ _Sadaharu_.” Yanagi breathed, moments later, as he came in Sanada’s arms.

 

Sanada wasn’t sure what he felt in that moment.

 

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them, nothing echoing in the night but their heavy breaths. Sanada lost interest in desire for release.

 

“I’m sorry.” Yanagi said, collapsing beside him.

 

 _Don’t apologize._ Sanada thought.

 

* * *

 

Two nights later, Sanada dreamt of Yukimura.

 

He pushed Yukimura through the garden in his wheelchair, the warm, summer air tickling his cheeks.

 

He noticed then that the flowerbed of the garden was overrun with thick weeds. Sanada stepped away for a moment to pull them from the soil, but new ones grew back immediately. He frowned, pulling those ones also, though yet again weeds came spiraling upwards.

 

“Sanada!” Yukimura called from behind him.

 

“No, no.” Sanada breathed, frantically pulling the weeds from the garden. They kept growing, and growing, and growing—

 

“Sanada! The flowers!” Yukimura yelled, and Sanada looked down to the fistfuls he held of white snowdrop flowers. His eyes widened. Where were the weeds? “My garden...”

 

“I—” Sanada started, staring at the fistfuls and fistfuls of flowers that he’d just uprooted from Yukimura’s flowerbed.

 

“Genichirou!” Yukimura cried. “How could you?”

 

“I’m sorry, I—”

 

“Genichirou!”

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

_“Genichirou!”_

 

Sanada was jerked awake, eyes opening wide as he found himself suddenly shroud in darkness, no longer the warm summer skies from his dream; from the world where he lived happily with Yukimura. Alive.

 

_Alive._

 

Yanagi held his shoulders, staring at him with a concerned expression. “Genichirou, you were dreaming.”

 

His chest rose and fell rapidly. He looked all around the room, then to Yanagi, who was laying naked beside him.

 

Sanada sighed.

 

“It’s been a while since I’ve dreamed about him.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and he settled back down into bed.

 

Yanagi placed his hand on Sanada’s chest, his head propped up with his other arm. He watched him with open, concerned eyes.

 

“Seiichi?” Yanagi asked.

 

Sanada nodded, sighing at the comforting stroke of Yanagi’s hand.

 

The other asked nothing further, just curling closer to him. God only knew what time of the night it was, but the feeling of Yanagi’s lips on his neck pulled him in quicker than he’d like to admit. He turned, their mouths meeting in a long, slow kiss.

 

At this point, both of their bodies were littered with love bites and scratches. Each night their grips grew more desperate, their kisses more feverish, their vision more hazy.

 

“I’m sorry.” Sanada mumbled, groaning against Yanagi’s lips as the other hoisted his leg up and over his hip, their bodies sliding together with ease, just as they had done before falling asleep earlier that night.

 

“Don’t apologize.” Yanagi whispered back.

 

* * *

 

The months passed. It was now the end of August, and Yanagi was moving into a dorm on campus.

 

Sanada didn’t know to feel.

 

“We’ll keep in touch, Genichirou.” Yanagi assured him, collecting the last of his belongings that had somehow merged within Sanada’s own over the past few months, especially within the bedroom.

 

“Of course.” Sanada agreed.

 

During the course of September, Sanada excused the absence of contact on how busy Yanagi must be with school.

 

The autumn months rolled on by, and soon it was winter; with still no contact from Yanagi.


	2. Chapter 2

_One year later._

 

Sanada was starting to catch on to the schemes of the ladies in the neighborhood that he patrolled.

 

It seemed that lately, his days were filled with nothing more than calls to come fix a faulty refrigerator light, to save a cat from a tree [wasn’t that a job for firefighters?] or as of currently—to assist with hanging laundry on the clothesline outside.  

 

“Oh, I couldn’t.” Sanada politely refused an invitation inside for a cup of tea by one of the older women in the neighborhood. “Thank-you, Kobayashi-san. I should return to my post.”

 

“You work so hard.” She smiled, hanging up the last of her laundry that she probably could have managed by herself. “You’re welcome over anytime. My son could learn a thing or two from you.”

 

“Quite the opposite.” Sanada assured her. He didn’t know how to take her constant praise. “If you have any other, er, serious matters, I’ll be patrolling around. Don’t hesitate to call.”

 

Kobayashi smiled dreamily, nodding. “Thank-you, Sanada-san.”

 

Adjusting his hat, Sanada bid his farewells and continued on to finish his patrol route. He knew that the next time he strolled by her home, as he often did around this time of day, that there would another mundane reason for Kobayashi to come running out the front door after him in need of assistance.

 

She wasn’t the only one.

 

Approximately ten minutes later, when Sanada had just made it around the block, there was another call.

 

“Sanada-san, I hurt my back trying to move some furniture,” came the frantic voice of a woman on the other side of the phone line, “I could really use some help.”

 

Regardless, Sanada took the call.

 

There wasn’t any other pressing matters anyways.

 

* * *

 

On his way back to the post box in the early evening, Sanada thought to himself about the day spent. He had to admit that his days would be quite boring if it wasn’t for the strange calls he got throughout the day. It wasn’t as if the ladies of the neighborhood weren’t nice, either. They were absurdly nice. He would give them that much.

 

When his phone rang, Sanada wondered what it could possibly be this time.

 

“Sanada-san, I need you back at the post.”

 

He blinked in surprise. It wasn’t a directed call, it was his coworker, Anzai, who worked at the same post box.

 

“Is everything alright?” Sanada asked with growing concern.

 

“Yes, there’s just a job here for you.” Anzai explained. “I’m busy with paperwork, and I figured you’d be back soon enough to take this call.”

 

“I’m just around the block, yeah.” Sanada said. Although he was off duty soon, he would never neglect a job.

 

“Alright. See you soon then.” Anzai hung up.

 

Sanada hurried back to the post, wondering what kind of job would await him. Honestly, if it was anything like the odd jobs he’d been doing all day, maybe all he’d have to to is help an older woman carry home her groceries.

 

That wouldn’t be too bad.

 

But no, it was nothing like that, and nothing that he’d expected either.

 

Stepping inside the small post, Sanada’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh, Sanada-san. Good timing!” Anzai exclaimed happily from behind the counter as he stepped inside.

 

In the waiting area, there was a young girl, one who couldn’t be older than four or five, crying and sitting beside someone that was all too familiar.

 

 _“Renji?”_ Sanada asked, baffled.

 

And Yanagi it was. He looked up, probably surprised to hear his first name. His eyes opened wide upon recognizing Sanada, his mouth opening slightly.

 

“Ah, Genichirou. It’s been a while.” He commented awkwardly, pulling the child closer to his side. “I didn’t know you worked in this area.”

 

“Clearly.” Sanada said, continuing to stare at him, almost as if Yanagi would vanish from his vision if he so much as blinked. His hair was short now, but otherwise he looked exactly the same.

 

“This is Hikari.” Yanagi ignored the remark, then gestured to the small girl curled into his side, who was sniffling. “Hikari, can you explain your situation to policeman-san?” His pitch raised softly as he looked down at her.

 

Hikari shook her head, hiding under Yanagi’s arm, curling up tight with what Sanada first assumed was a blanket, but upon further inspection, realized that it was Yanagi’s cardigan. It was one that Yanagi favored, one that Sanada had seen on his bedroom floor one to many times.

 

“That’s okay.” He assured her, then looked back up to Sanada. “Alright, so in summary, I’ve been working down the street as a teacher’s aid for young kids. Hikari is one of my students, and her parents didn’t come to pick her up after school.”

 

Any kind of strange feeling that Sanada had towards Yanagi was then overwritten by the concern that Sanada had for the young girl.

 

“Hikari’s emergency contacts were her maternal grandparents, who live a few blocks down the road.” Yanagi went on. “I haven’t been able to convince her to walk there with me, she’s too upset, so I hoped that the presence of an officer would make her feel better.”

 

Sanada nodded, stepping towards them. He got down on one knee, his leather belt creaking from the movement.

 

“Hikari-chan, was it?” Sanada asked softly, watching as she slowly peeked out from behind Yanagi’s arm. He smiled at her. “Hi. I’m Sanada, I’m a policeman.” He introduced himself, reaching into his breast pocket to pull out his badge. “See?” He showed it to her.

 

Hikari took it in her small hands, looking at it through teary eyes.

 

“You look scary.” Hikari said, looking at the ID photo. Yanagi couldn’t help but laugh at this.

 

“It’s not a very nice photo, is it?” Sanada chuckled. “I don’t look that scary in real life, do I?” He comically puffed out his cheeks and narrowed his brows. Hikari laughed at his expression.

 

“No.” She agreed with a smile.

 

“Why don’t you hold onto that badge while we walk home together? It’ll keep you safe.” Sanada assured her. “How does that sound?”

 

“Can Yan-chan come?”

 

“Yan-chan, huh?” Sanada raised his brows, looking up at Yanagi, who just shrugged in response. “Of course he can. We’re old friends, you know.”

 

“Really?!” Hikari’s eyes lit up.

 

“Yeah, I’ve known him since we were close to your age. I could tell you all sorts of funny stories about him.” Sanada smiled.

 

“Same for him.” Yanagi spoke up finally, smiling down at Hikari. “How about it? Let’s go with Sanada-san.”

 

Despite the context, hearing Yanagi refer to him with honorifics was beyond bizarre.

 

Hikari got up off the chair, fastening Yanagi’s comically large cardigan around her tiny body. “Okay.” She agreed.

 

Sanada smiled, any bitter feelings towards Yanagi melting away. In the meantime, at least.   


* * *

 

It was dark outside now, night having fallen over the city streets.

 

Sanada and Yanagi successfully took Hikari to her grandparents place, who were overjoyed to have her come home safe. They gave their thanks, and Sanada bid farewell to Hikari, and promised he’d come visit again soon.

 

“Genichirou.” Yanagi said, as they walked away from the front door of the house, as if he was about to explain himself.

 

“How’s dorm life?” Sanada cut him off, not caring to hear what he had to say.

 

“It’s alright. It’s rather dreary.”

 

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” He replied dryly.

 

“Thanks for your help. I’m sorry I—I didn’t realize that was your post, otherwise I wouldn’t have troubled you.”

 

“And you would have went on with life ignoring me, right. Okay.” Sanada frowned. He stopped walking, arms folded across his chest.

 

“I wasn’t ignoring you.” Yanagi replied simply.

 

“You changed your number.” Sanada pressed.

 

“I changed it because of Sadaharu, not because of you.” Yanagi countered.

 

Even just hearing that name made Sanada mad. Sadaharu. A name that he had heard far too many times in place of his own.

 

“You still had my number, you could have contacted me, Renji.” Sanada frowned.

 

Yanagi opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

 

“I hear more from Akaya nowadays than I hear from you. Funny, right? Even Tezuka. We talked last week.”

 

“Listen to yourself.” Yanagi spat bitterly.

 

“It’s better than listening to whatever ridiculous excuse you have for cutting me off for over a year. After I let you live with me for months without charging rent, without asking for _anything_ , and you—”

 

“I’m _sorry_.” Yanagi apologized, though his tone was angry. “I’m not here to argue with you in the middle of the night. I’m sorry for troubling you.”

 

Sanada shook his head with a sigh, pressing his fingers between his brows.  

 

“Goodnight, Renji.” He said, voice strained.

 

Yanagi was silent for a long moment, then sighed. He could hear his shoes scuff against the dirt on the road as he turned around. Footsteps followed.

 

“Goodnight, Genichirou.”


End file.
